It's been 3 weeks since I lasted posted on my Blog - Saturday the 16th of April to be precise. I clearly remember wanting to post something on Sunday the 17th and was very chuffed that I was about to blog 2 days in a row... but then "something" happened (life?), combined with a trip to East London, followed by a string of public holidays and here we are 3 weeks later and still no post! So I'm going to continue (and expand on) the post I planned to write 21 days ago - BUT believe it or not there have been some developments in this arena, which if you know me, is a HUGE achievement. But let's start at the beginning.
3 weeks ago:
I went out for a cycle. Yes, me, I took my newly acquired bike and went out on the open road. Granted, the bike had been sitting in our lounge for a few weeks and since I wasn't one to look a gift horse(bike) in the mouth, I decided to take it out and show it who's boss. So I went out on a quiet road frequented by many many many (serious) cyclists.
As I set off on the crisp Autumn morning, I felt like a million bucks. The mountains and vineyards were the perfect backdrop as I cruised at a fairly impressive pace and I found myself thinking I had finally found "my sport" - this is something I could do and potentially do well! Thoughts of the Cape Argus, Cape Epic and other extreme cycling events were swimming in head - I was on top of the world..... for a while. Then it suddenly dawned on me that part of the reason my speed had been so impressive was that I was going downhill and that at some point I'd need to get all the way back up if I ever wanted to see my family again.
Even though at this point I really felt like I could cycle the 17km's to Stellenbosh, I did the sensible thing and pulled into a wine farm (no, not for a tasting) but to turn around. It was then that I realised just how steep the hill was and that going back up was going to be no picnic - which made me wish I had packed a picnic because the trek home was going to be a long one!
But I took on the challenge and started digging deep, however, after about 100m, I had to admit defeat and did the only reasonable thing, I hopped off my bike and started to hoof it! It was at this point that I was exposed to just how friendly the cycling fraternity is. Every (and I mean every) cyclist that passed me, asked if I was ok. Now I'm all for friendliness and roadside comeraderie (in fact that's one of the main reasons I ran the 2 Oceans half marathon years ago), but when you are panting like a 60 pack a day, 80 year old asthmatic with 1 functional lung, saying "yes, thank you, I'm ok, just taking a little break"... can come out as "leave me the $%^# alone, can't you see I'm %^&*ing tired". But no, everyone needed to make sure I was ok!
Eventually I decided it was easier to cycle (albeit slowly) up the hill than it was to try and explain why I was walking, bike in hand. It was no small feat making it up the hill, in fact, I must have provided some comic relief to some early morning commuters. But I managed to make it home... just.
Nevertheless, I was proud of myself. I had taken the bike out, had really worked hard (well as hard as one can when freewheeling down a hill) and made it back alive, if a little (alot) out of breathe. I was keen to see just how far I had cycled, so later that afternoon, when the feeling returned to my ass, I took my car out and measured my route. I was a little destraught when just around a corner, I suddenly saw my winefarm turning point and realised I hadn't actually gone THAT FAR afterall... WTF?? In fact, it was exactly 1.8km to the bottom of my hill... so my route had been a GRAND TOTAL of 3.6km - again I say WTF? Had I known it was so little, I think I might just have gone into the wine farm for some tasting to make the trip worth my while!
Anyway... the exercise bug has bitten and that combined with the fact that I don't plan on being "The Fat Sister" at my brother's upcoming nuptials (in fact, screw Pippa Middleton, soon there'll be a facebook page dedicated to MY ass), it is all systems go with a new excercise and eaten plan. Like the saying goes, I am not just turning over a new leaf, but pretty much an entire forest!
I have subsequently joined the gym where my friend-with-a-life is a member. The sceptic Husband doesn't have much faith in this venture and is convinced the only muscles that will benefit from this 12 month contract will be those in my jaw!
BUT more about my gym experience tomorrow... as well as why I have a 12 month contract instead of the more economical (if longer) 24 month contract.
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